


Commander Pounder

by DaniJayNel



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa, F/F, Oneshot, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 21:29:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4538076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavia suddenly yelled across the table. “Clarke, if I’m The Grounder Pounder, then what are you?”</p><p>Clarke stilled and stiffened “O, don’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Commander Pounder

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to doing this Clexa prompt. Eh, probably not how it was supposed to be, but here it is, finally done! Thanks for the prompt ^^ lemme know what you think of the story by leaving a comment. 
> 
> Prompt: U know how Octavia is "The Grounder Pounder", how about Clarke accidentally laughing when Raven calls Octavia that and Octavia as revenge says to Clarke that if she's a grounder pounder then she took that to a whole new level since she is the "Commander Pounder" and then EVERYONE starts teasing Clarke and calling her that and Abby is scandalised and Lexa is just amused and slightly confused.

Clarke gave her full stomach a pat before leaning back in her seat and sighing. Dinner had been great, and it was so nice to have peace instead of war. Everyone—Sky People and Grounders—all littered the area. Most were still eating, chatting amongst themselves. Most of Clarke’s people stayed to themselves, while Lexa’s did the same, but a few curious and brave souls ventured to another group to ask questions and share a drink. In that same breath, Lexa was seating with Clarke and her close group. She was at Clarke’s right, and she seemed just as pleased with the situation even though to everyone else she looked impassive, almost bored. The only thing that told Clarke exactly how much Lexa was enjoying herself, was the constant twitch of her lips, and how her eyes darted around the table to follow the conversation.

“Like I said, we were all super high,” Bellamy said, chuckling to myself.

“I can’t even imagine what you children got up to before we came down,” Abby said, shaking her head.

“Surviving,” Clarke commented. She smiled when her mother turned to her to let her know that it wasn’t meant as a jab. “Or at least that’s what it was supposed to be.”

“Wasn’t easy with O here,” Raven commented, wrapping an arm around Octavia.

“Excuse you?”

Raven laughed and ignored Bellamy’s warning glare. “Octavia here is well known as The Grounder Pounder.”

Lincoln, to Octavia’s left, went a slight shade darker and quickly hid it by lifting his drink to his mouth. He clearly knew much more about English than he let on, because Lexa tilted her head ever so slightly in confusion, and Clarke couldn’t help but laugh and elbow her playfully in the side.

“Need I explain?” she asked, grinning.

Lexa’s eyes flashed and she gave one, short nod.

“Clarke don’t you dare!” Octavia yelled, with one hand slapping Raven and with the other trying not to appear too flustered.

“What does it mean?” Lexa asked in genuine curiosity.

Clarke—and the others—had to stifle their laughter at Lexa’s curious face. “You really want to know, Commander?” Clarke asked. She had a blonde brow raised in warning, in challenge. Lexa picked up on it immediately, but before she could respond, Octavia suddenly yelled across the table.

“Clarke, if I’m The Grounder Pounder, then what are you?”

Clarke stilled and stiffened “O, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Abby asked, finally inserting herself into the conversation after desperately trying to disappear from it. She looked from Octavia to Clarke with concern.

“Abby, just ignore her,” Bellamy advised, rolling his eyes.

“No, go on O,” Raven encouraged. She plonked her elbows onto the table and then grinned broadly, brightly, and it made Clarke want to shove a bread roll up her rose.

“Go on,” Abby echoed. “I’m curious.”

“No, really, you’re not,” Clarke hurried. “Please.”

Octavia was grinning so broadly that it must have hurt. Clarke couldn’t imagine ever being _that_ happy. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest, but certainly not from excitement. It didn’t help at all that Lexa shifted beside her, and she had a clear look of irritation and impatience on her face. She was confused and excluded, since she clearly did not understand why everyone suddenly seemed so uncomfortable and flustered.

“Clarke,” Octavia began. “Is a Commander Pounder.”

Clarke groaned and then hid her face in her hands, while Abby audibly gasped.

“I hope that isn’t what I think it means,” Abby said. Clarke glanced up to see her mother pressing her hands to her chest, like an old lady suffering from a shock.

“Oh it’s exactly what it means,” Octavia answered, grinning.

“I am going to kill you,” Clarke growled.

“Clarke, is this something I should be concerned about?” Lexa asked.

“Probably,” Bellamy said softly. He snorted into his drink when Abby gasped again.

“Clarke, please no. Not my child.”

“Mom, just stop imagining things!”

“Clarke,” Lexa urged. “Please explain what has just happened.”

Lincoln and Raven were both red in the face from trying not to laugh, and Octavia had given up even trying. She almost rolled into a plate of gravy from the force of her laughter.

Clarke rolled her eyes and stood, pulling Lexa with her. “Come with me,” she said.

“Sounds satisfying,” Raven muttered softly. She then burst into loud laughter, and Abby closed her eyes in horror.

“Raven!”

“Abby, your daughter is wild!” Raven cried out, slapping the table.

“Who is wild?” Jasper asked as he walked closer after hearing the laughter. “Sounds like something fun is happening here.”

“Maybe in a moment there will be,” Bellamy commented. Everyone laughed again, and Clarke finally felt her cheeks fill with scarlet.

“Guys, please. This isn’t funny.”

“Of course not, Commander Pounder,” Octavia cried out. She had actual tears streaming down her cheeks.

Jasper’s eyes widened as he realized why everyone was so amused, and he turned to Clarke and Lexa. “Seriously?” he said. “You finally did it?”

Clarke resisted the urge to slap him and turned sharply to drag Lexa with her, away to the trees where the laughter wouldn’t echo. Lexa went with quietly.

“Clarke, I am confused.”

Clarke sighed softly once they had stopped walking. “Trust me, it’s better than knowing.”

“Tell me.”

She did, and Lexa went through various reactions—realization, clarity, surprise and then a mixture between embarrassment and pride.

That certainly did not make Clarke feel any better, and when she walked back to the others, more people seemed to have gathered to be let into the joke. Of course, Lexa smirked playfully at them, and when someone yelled another ‘Commander Pounder’ into the air, Lexa wrapped an arm around her, almost possessively.

“Lexa!” Clarke almost hissed.

“Do not let them bother you. Who else has the honour of pounding the commander?”

Clarke went red all over again. “Lexa, please.”

“It is an honour, Clarke.”

“Stop.”

“Wear your title with pride.”

“No.”

“Does this make me the Clarke Pounder? Perhaps the Conqueror of the Sky Leader?”

“Oh my god, Lexa. Stop!”

“I will never stop, Clarke.”


End file.
